


Up on the Rooftop

by wordsareleftbehind (froggydarren)



Category: Glee RPF
Genre: Established Relationship, First Christmas, Future Fic, Holiday Fic Exchange, M/M, first home, in that new home, novelty decorations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-24
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-19 08:19:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13119801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/froggydarren/pseuds/wordsareleftbehind
Summary: “You owe me,” he says, pout gone, determination set in his expression instead. “You promised me that if I did Halloween the way you wanted it to, I could have Christmas.”





	Up on the Rooftop

**Author's Note:**

  * For [serohtonin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/serohtonin/gifts).



> Gifted to [Stacey](somethingdarrencrissish.tumblr.com) as part of the [Crisscolfer Gift Exchange 2017](https://crisscolfergiftexchange.tumblr.com/)

“No.”

Darren pouts. Chris, mostly able to resist the puppy eyes now, after years of exposure to them, rolls his eyes and shakes his head.

“No,” he repeats more firmly.

If it was anyone else, that would be the end of it. Chris knows that his tone — when he gets it just right, the way he wants it — can be stronger than anyone would ever expect. And for other people in his life, that’s enough.

But not Darren. Like Chris is to Darren’s puppy eyes, Darren is absolutely impervious to Chris’s tone. That, or he’s just too stubborn to even bother acknowledging Chris’s refusal.

“You owe me,” he says, pout gone, determination set in his expression instead. “You promised me that if I did Halloween the way you wanted it to, I could have Christmas.”

“Yeah well, but I meant _reasonably_ ,” Chris says, arms crossed around his chest. “Not a fucking light show that gives Disney a run for their money.”

“They were all so cool though. Look, did I show you…?”

“Yes you did. Every one of them. Twice. And then you went another two rounds showing me the Grandma in a rocking chair.”

“You liked that one,” Darren points out.

“Yes, but _not on the fucking roof of the house_ , Darren,” Chris says, his voice now dripping with exasperation. “Why do you even want to put all of these on the roof? They’re not all outdoors decorations.”

“Well, I assumed you wouldn’t want the whole house full of singing and dancing Santas,” Darren tells him, grabbing one of them. “I’m pretty sure Brian would hate me forever.”

“You’re not wrong. Well, not entirely, I think Brian has never been your biggest fan.” Chris laughs. “Not that he’s anyone’s biggest fan.”

“Yours, maybe. Of the feline variety, at least,” Darren flicks a button, and a loud obnoxious version of Jingle Bells fills the kitchen. “I’m claiming the human first place for myself.”

“Of course you do,” Chris mutters, not bothering to speak up over the butchered song.

Darren deflates, and Chris figures that his words were audible enough despite the noise from the Santa figure between them. He tries to scramble up a bit of regret, but he can’t. Not when half of the kitchen’s flat surfaces are still covered with a variety of Christmas-themed toys, all of which he knows play some kind of holiday song or variations thereof. Not when Darren has apparently decided that they’re going to create holiday traditions that _all_ , without fail, involve music.

And lights, he can’t forget the lights. Some of them are already lining windows. Others, Chris knows, are ready to be attached and plugged in to outline the flat roof of the house’s garage.

“I just…” Chris starts, but then his mouth snaps shut.

It’s their first year here, together, in a house that’s _theirs_. Okay, so maybe it’s not their names on the deed, but they agreed that privacy is more important than a token like that. But it’s their funds that bought it, and it matters. And it’s why Chris so reluctant to fight Darren on his plans for decorating, no matter how outlandish they are.

“Just, I didn’t think we’d need to have an actual homing beacon on our roof,” he says weakly.

“But Christopher, how will Santa Claus _find us_ otherwise?” Darren asks, eyes wide and looking for just a moment like an innocent child.

Which he very much isn’t, and Chris knows it. He’s not entirely sure if his glare at Darren conveys just how little he thinks of that particular line in the moment. When Darren only chuckles in response, it’s pretty clear that the glare is having zero effect.

“Okay, fine,” Chris concedes, raising his hands up in surrender. “Just get these contraptions _out_ of the house. Before they drive me crazy, and more importantly before Brian and Cooper claim them as their toys.”

Darren nods, grinning widely, and he starts collecting the various items into the box he had them in before he started his demonstration of each and every one of them. Chris grabs a mug from the counter, and then slips out before Darren asks him to help. He’s okayed decorating the garage roof, but he’s not going to be complicit in the travesty. Instead, he heads into the living room, where the more innocent decorations are in a crate under the tree.

He’s busy for some time with putting up baubles and ornaments on the tree, throwing sideways glances at Brian while he’s working. In the previous years, Brian hasn’t been interested in acrobatics during the holidays, but Chris can’t help his suspicion. He’s seen enough cats insist on becoming enamored with the trinkets on the branches, _and_ the branches themselves to not entirely rule out that they’ll be picking up the tree off the floor at some point.

Finally, with enough ornaments filling the tree, Chris gives it one last look and closes up the crate with the remaining ones. It’s been suspiciously quiet in the kitchen, but he figures that Darren has gone out to set up whatever craziness he wanted to do.

When Chris opens the back door and takes a step outside, Darren’s curls appear on the side of the garage roof.

“Heyyyy there!”

“Well, that’s a completely reassuring tone,” Chris notes. “What did you break?”

“I am offended, Christopher,” Darren tells him, twisting until his legs are dangling off the side of the roof. “Why would you assume I broke something?”

Despite his better judgment, Chris sighs and walks towards the ladder propped up against the side of the garage.

“Do you want some help?”

Way too fast to not have ulterior reasons, Darren shakes his head.

“No, no, I’m good,” he tells Chris. “I’ve got this all under control.”

“Are you sure?” Chris asks, eyes narrowing.

“Absolutely,” Darren insists. Then he continues in a less protesting tone. “Look, I know you’re not all that happy about my idea….”

“Understatement of the year,” Chris mutters.

“…so how about I get it all done, and _then_ show you that it was all worth it?”

Chris studies Darren’s face for a few beats, then shrugs.

“Just promise me it’s not actually going to cause any damage,” he says as he steps away from the ladder. “We only just moved in, I’d rather not have to start looking again.”

“I would never,” Darren tells him sincerely.

“Not on purpose, no,” Chris says, then chuckles. “Accidentally, on the other hand….”

“I’m gonna bleed out if you keep with these hurtful things,” Darren says. “You keep saying those things, and it stabs my heart.”

“Yeah well, better than you hurting yourself with that,” Chris waves a hand towards the roof, “project of yours. Please get back down in one piece, okay?”

“I’ll be down for dinner, all of me,” Darren says, grinning again. “We can try and see who else is willing to deliver this far out.”

“Or we could, you know, _cook_ ,” Chris suggests.

“Travesty. Who cooks nowadays?”

“I do, as you well know. Not all of us live on takeout and restaurants.”

“Again with the hurting,” Darren complains. “I’m just going to be over here, complaining to Santa about how you’re on the naughty list this year for being _rude_.”

Chris scoffs and then walks back inside. He knows Darren is going to be a while, so he settles on the couch with his laptop, determined to get some work done while he has a chance.

“Don’t judge me,” he tells Brian, when he sees him staring from his favorite spot — Cooper’s dog bed. “If I let him do this, I get Halloween again next year. And my ideas are always better for that.”

Brian, predictably, doesn’t even bother with a meow.

                                                                                                   

* * *

 

 

It’s almost dark by the time the back door slams to announce Darren’s return from decorating the roof. Chris closes the laptop and puts it away, happy with the amount of writing he got done, and he looks up just as Darren walks in.

“Done?”

Darren nods.

“I am. Still have to test some of the lights, but I’ll do that tomorrow night,” he says. “There are a few more days, so if any of them don’t work, I’ll drive out to get replacements.”

“Will we be seen from space?”

The question earns Chris a glare, just as Darren settles on the couch next to him.

“You mock, but you’ll be eating your words when we’ve won the neighborhood prize for the best decorated house,” Darren says, leaning against Chris’s shoulder.

“Darren?”

“Yeah?”

“You do know that there is no such thing as a competition for the best decorated house in the area, right?” Chris asks.

“There might be one day,” Darren tells him, sounding sleepy. “And then we’ll win it. I’m just practicing.”

“Right,” Chris says. “Glad we’re preparing for when the nearest neighbors are closer to us in the future. Not a mile away, like they are now.”

“Pssh, they’re still neighbors,” Darren mumbles. “And we’re still getting the grand prize.”

“Okay,” Chris says, smiling. “Now, how about we wrap this up, have some dinner, and then head to bed?”

“Why, Mr. Colfer, are you propositioning me?” Darren asks, then promptly follows it up with a yawn. “Because you didn’t specify any trade for the roof decorations, and I’m not sure I approve of your sneakiness.”

“As tired as you are, Criss, I don’t think you’d be up for any payoffs,” Chris says. “Even if I was insisting on being compensated for the trauma you inflicted on me with the presentation of all those singing Santas and whatever else they were.”

“Rude,” Darren says. “But, admittedly, true.”

“Dinner. Bed. _Sleep_ ,” Chris says, nudging Darren’s side.

“Aye aye, cap’n,” Darren mumbles.

When he gets up, it’s sluggish and slow, and Chris wonders for a moment whether they should skip dinner altogether and get some sleep instead. But then Darren’s eyes light up when he sees the containers from his favorite take-out place, and the tiredness disappears for a while.

Granted, he only stays awake long enough to eat and change for bed, and he’s out the moment his head hits the pillow.

                                                                                                   

* * *

 

 

For the next few days after that, any time Chris asks about the decorations and wanting to see Darren’s work, there’s an excuse for why it’s not the right time.

“I need to fix up some of the lights, they’re not working.”

“The wind blew over a row of Santas, and now I need to plan all over how to set them up.”

“Look, they’re just not ready to be seen yet.”

By day three, Chris has resigned himself to never getting to see the roof again. Not that it’s a place he’d particularly like, but he had plans for it, once upon a time. Plans that involved outdoor furniture and possibly a small railing on the sides, and sunsets to be watched from there. Because they are in the middle of nowhere, with a vast space to look at from an higher place. Apparently, it’s going to have to wait until another time.

“So, with the amount of time it takes to set up, I hope you’re planning to take _less_ time to clear the roof up after the holidays,” Chris tells Darren after yet another exchange about how it’s not time to go see it all just yet.

“Mhm,” Darren says, mouth full.

“We’re _not_ having Christmas decorations on our house all year round, Criss.”

“We won’t,” Darren tells him after he finishes the bite. “I promise we won’t.”

“Do you also promise to clean it up yourself, or will we need to hire a crew for it?” Chris asks, raising an eyebrow.

Darren narrows his eyes, looking unimpressed.

“You’re talking like I’m defiling the house,” he says. “You haven’t even seen what I’ve done yet.”

“Because you won’t let me,” Chris points out. “For whatever perfectionist reason.”

“It’s got to be right,” Darren says, shrugging. “No point showing you something I know won’t be enough to convince you it was worth it.”

They fall into silence then. Of course, Chris knows that Darren has a point, but he’s not about to agree. That would probably lead to a concession about the decorations _every year_ , and Chris does want to see what it is that Darren’s been creating for days before he allows it to happen again.

And well, he’ll still probably weigh in the electricity bill later on, even though Darren insisted that it’s not going to be outrageous.

“It will be done soon,” Darren says then.

“Can’t wait,” Chris tells him, not bothering to hide the sarcasm in his tone.

                                                                                                   

* * *

 

 

It’s Christmas Eve before Darren finally tells him that the roof is, as he says, ready for a Colferspection. But when Chris suggests they go up before lunch, Darren explains that the lights won’t be seen, so they better wait until nightfall.

“Otherwise you won’t get the full effect,” he tells Chris. “And what’s the point then? It doesn’t look nearly as awesome during the day as it does at night.”

“Please tell me we’re not going to attract stray drones or animals with the lights,” Chris pleads, only joking a little as they walk towards the garage later that day.

“I should really be offended by how little faith you have in me,” Darren says. “But I’m not going to let you ruin my mood. Not today.”

He mumbles something else, but it’s too quiet for Chris to hear. And Chris doesn’t have time to ask, because the next thing he knows, Darren has a firm hold on Chris’s hand and is leading him out.

The lights are off, Chris can see that from the ground, and even the floodlight in the backyard is off. When he asks, Darren explains that it would ruin the effect, and Chris drops it, though he has doubts. But then Darren is on the ladder, and waving him up, so Chris follows, albeit with hesitation.

As he figured before they both are up, there are no lights, despite all the talk about the malfunctioning ones over the past few days. Chris’s eyes are still adjusting to the darkness outside, but even without his vision being perfect, he knows that there is not enough _stuff_ on the roof. As his eyes slowly start seeing shapes, he realizes that something isn’t as he expected it to be. Or rather, that _nothing_ is as he expected it to be.

“Stand here, close your eyes,” Darren says, leading Chris a few steps away from the edge.

“I can’t see anything anyway,” Chris grumbles. “What’s going on, Darren? Where are all the things you showed me?”

“Just, stay here, okay?” Darren tells him, and then he steps away, towards the other side of the roof.

Chris sighs, but then he closes his eyes. There’s not much difference to what he was seeing with them open, but he waits. He can hear a few steps, then a click, and then steps again, this time coming back towards him.

“You can look,” Darren says.

When Chris does, there are lights. Only, they’re not the kind that he was expecting. There are no Santa figurines either, and the place isn’t overflowing with color or brightness. Instead, the edge of the roof is lined with small twinkling lights, dimmed so they only make it easy to see, but they don’t overtake the darkness completely.

In the middle of the roof is an elevated construction, and what looks like a huge mattress on top of it. Chris blinks and looks at it properly, confirming his guess. It seems to be a spot for lounging on, and its base is lined with more lights like the ones on the outside of the roof.

“Darren?”

Chris starts turning around, realizing that he moved towards the center of the roof, and that Darren didn’t. When he does, Darren is still in the same spot he was a moment ago, and he’s looking sheepish and nervous.

“Darren, what…?”

The words die on Chris’s tongue, because his brain is catching up. Darren speaks up before Chris catches his breath again.

“So, I know that I kind of faked this one out, and that you were expecting something else. And I’m sorry about scaring you with the possibility of _that_ display of lights and noises. But I needed you to stay far away from here until this,” Darren nods towards the lounger, “was finished.”

He pauses, taking a breath.

“I know you wanted something like this up here, to watch the stars and to just, be outside. And I wanted to give you that for Christmas this year. Because I know how much it means to you.”

“Darren…” Chris whispers, but stops when Darren shakes his head.

“Not quite done,” he says. “Just so you also know, there are some guys coming over to install a proper railing around here, but I couldn’t figure out how to explain _that_ away. It was hard enough to keep this a secret.”

Chris nods and smiles, but he’s still not sure why Darren looks nervous as hell.

“But there’s another thing I wanted to do tonight,” Darren says.

Then Chris watches as Darren steps closer and drops to one knee.

“So, it’s not only _this_ ,” he looks around the roof, “that I want to give you. Now, or in the future. Because it’s only one of the things, and I have a list of stuff I want to keep doing for you, for as long as you’ll let me. _If_ you’ll let me. Christopher Paul Colfer….”

“Yes,” Chris breathes out, Darren’s question not even finished.

“Oh come _on_ , will you let me finish? I practiced this,” Darren complains.

“Sorry,” Chris blurts out, cheeks burning.

“Right, so, before I was so rudely interrupted,” Darren says, the smile on his face not matching the words. “Christopher Colfer, will you make the crazy decision to spend the rest of your life with me?”

Chris opens his mouth, then closes it and takes a deep breath.

“Seriously?” Darren asks, and he holds out his hand, a small black box in his palm. “Please?”

“Oh you ass, _yes_ , of course yes,” Chris says, and he drops to his knees in front of Darren. “As if I’d ever say anything else.”

“I don’t know, you had me wondering there for a second,” Darren tells him, grinning. “Now, it’s not a traditional ring, I should warn you,” he adds, opening the box. “But I figured this was a little more significant.”

Chris glances away from Darren’s face reluctantly, and turns to the box in Darren’s hand. There, on a small black velvety cushion, is a ring that he knows well, has known for a long time. It’s green, and Chris knows it’s jade. And he knows exactly how long Darren had it.

“It’s yours now,” Darren says, lifting it out of the box. “If you’ll have it.”

“And again,” Chris says, smiling as he holds out his hand, “ _yes_.”

**Author's Note:**

> [my tumblr](http://froggydarren.tumblr.com/) || [my CC fic tumblr](http://wordsareleftbehind.tumblr.com/)


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